The Fae’s Captive

The Dead Forest

Adara

I traipsed through the gloomy forest, my eyes cast down towards the rubble on the ground, and my shabby leather-clad feet scraping at the arid earth beneath me. I was looking for something, something important, a small spark of life that could be nourished and grown into something greater. These sparks were becoming more and more difficult to find lately, and our supplies were running low.

I heard the loud c***k of a branch snapping, and I whirled around my dagger already drawn from its sheath, eyes scanning my surroundings for even a hint of movement. These were dangerous times, despite the promise of safety from our supposed benefactors. I held my breath, straining my ears for the sound of approaching footsteps, but all I could hear was the sound of the wind howling through the dead branches of the trees. I waited a few more minutes just to be sure. The undead had grown craftier over the years, and it wasn’t unknown for them to gather enough of their wits about them to sneak up on a person and attack them unaware. I didn’t exactly relish the thought of being eaten alive by one of those creatures, just one bite from them brought about an infection so severe you would last only a few moments before succumbing to your wounds.

When the forest went silent once again, I let out the breath I had been holding, relaxing the tense muscles in my shoulder and re-sheathing my blade. I continued my search, placing a palm on a nearby tree trunk and channelling my energy through it, but nothing happened. The trees here had died long ago, and all that remained were their empty, lifeless husks, spindly branches drooping down towards the wasted land beneath them. I sighed, filled with sorrow at this senseless loss of life. 

My father had shown me what the trees should have looked like, what they would have looked like if the world hadn’t gone so terribly wrong centuries ago. Magnificent, towering monuments of nature. Their rich mahogany brown branches reaching up towards the skies, heavily laden with leaves of green, amber, or red, depending on the season. I longed to see that kind of beauty in this world again, but it was looking unlikely.

I, like my parents before me and my grandparents before them, had been born into this dark and terrible world and had never known it any other way. The books, paintings and pictures that they had saved from this pre-apocalyptic world, told a different story. It showed a world full of colour and beauty, with strange-looking creatures and weird mechanical beasts living in it. Where people didn’t have to toil in the dry, dead fields all day; in the hope, their crops would provide enough sustenance to keep them and their families alive. Where clean and clear water fell in abundance from the skies; not burning the delicate skin of the people beneath it and bringing them out in a rash that took weeks to disappear. Where heat and light would enter your home magically at the touch of a button, so you wouldn’t freeze during those long dark winter months. 

The dead did not walk the lands as they do now. When a person died back then, they stayed dead. Bodies were buried beneath the ground or burnt and placed into urns, never to rise again but left to sleep for an eternity undisturbed. How easy life must have been back then, but there was no point in longing for something that couldn’t be, this was how the world was now, and it was getting harder and harder to survive each year.

The Dead Forest wasn’t exactly the safest place for me to be walking alone, but it was a necessary evil. I had a gift, one that I couldn’t let anyone else know about, for fear of exploitation or worse. The Fae would take me for it. I was sure of that. Just as I was certain that my own people would betray me for the reward they would gain for handing me over. A small sack of seeds or loaf of stale bread for one peasant girls life? They would jump at the chance, and it would be goodbye Arielle, whisked off to the land of Faerie, never to be seen again. I would rather die quickly and on my own terms, thank you very much. Those sadistic Fae bastards would take great delight in torturing me, exploiting my power until there was nothing left of me. I would be left a dry husk, like all these dead trees surrounding me.

I hadn’t even told my father, although I was sure he suspected. He had enough trouble disguising me as it was. He had spent the past 18 years dressing me as a boy so that I could avoid the annual selection process, and I was eternally grateful for his forethought on the matter. Women traditionally wore corsets and dresses, which, in my option, looked completely impractical and uncomfortable. I had been brought up to wear plain linen pants and a baggy shirt. When puberty hit and my breasts began to develop, we implemented a severe chest binding method, which flattened my breasts enough for them not to be noticeable. It was an uncomfortable and time-consuming process, but a small price to pay to not have to deal with the Fae.

Both the men and women of my village wore their hair long, and I favoured the traditional unisex braided style. My silver braid ran halfway down my back, but I tucked it under my shirt so it remained out of sight. I wore a dirty grey flat cap on my head, so my face was always shadowed, and a dirty scrap of fabric around the lower part of my face as a makeshift mask against the dusty air, which also disguised the smooth hairless skin on my jaw.

The only visible parts of my body were my big deep green eyes, the same colour as the trees in the books. Thick, long black eyelashes framed my eyes, and the outer corners tilted up slightly.

I had mimicked the gait of the men of the village, carefully avoiding swaying my hips when I walked and instead adding a subtle swagger to each step, puffing out my chest and swinging my arms loosely at my sides. The voice had been harder. I tried not to talk unless I absolutely had to. Making sure I deepened my voice and adding a hint of a rasp to it, saying the absolute bare minimum in response to the villager's questions.

When I was younger, I had made a makeshift p***s by tying rolls of material together in a cylindrical bundle and shoving it into my undergarments. I had been ridiculously proud of my efforts, walking into the kitchen to show my father. He had howled with laughter at the sight, tears streaming down his face, whilst I stood there confused and also slightly embarrassed.

“Adara, "He had said, fishing my fake member out of my pants and breaking into laughter once again. “I love your creativity, but if you walk out there as a ‘boy’ of 12 with something this size in your pants.” He waved my creation in my face. “Our cover will most definitely be blown!” 

I had been fairly generous with the size in hindsight. I’d seen the men washing in the river from time to time, and theirs had been barely a fraction of the size.

Safe to say I hadn’t bothered making myself anatomically correct as I grew older, choosing to conceal my figure in baggy clothes instead.

So far it seemed to be working. I was able to pass myself off as a slightly effeminate young man within my village. I doubted my disguise would fool the Fae though, and I often hid myself away when I knew they were coming. 

I was able to walk through these woods as myself; choosing to use my natural walk and keeping my face uncovered. Though the area was unguarded and dangerous, I felt far safer here than in the village.

Another loud snap came from my right, and my head whipped around to face it, my eyes wide with fright and my heart hammering fearfully in my chest. I didn’t see him at first, searching the area directly in front of me at eye level, but when I lowered my eyes, there he stood.

Barely 2 feet tall, with wild, untamed curly brown hair coating his very naked body, a familiar tiny creature stood. He stared up at me with large, doleful brown eyes, his great big bushy eyebrows raised so high they had disappeared into his hairline. His lips were pressed into a firm hard line of disapproval that I could barely see due to the cascade of brown curls coming from the nostrils of his large, bulbous nose. In fact, the only area of his body that remained relatively hairless was his large rotund potbelly, which thankfully hung low over his crotch, covering up his appendage completely.

“Hob!” I gasped out loud, my heart still beating quickly in my chest. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Hob wasn’t actually his real name, just one that I had given to him as a small child, as he liked to sit by the hearth warming his toes and eating the bread and milk I left there for him. The Fae didn’t like you to know their full names. Apparently, it gave you power over them. Hob had told me this; he had told me many useful things about the Fae, which was surprising since he was one. His kind went by many names in the old world, but the most familiar term was Brownie.

His kind loved to clean, tidy and generally just help out around the house and farm when needed. That was how they gained their power. They loved to do it, as long as their work was appreciated. I made sure to leave him food and drink every night for his efforts, despite how little we had to offer.

He frowned at my turn of phrase, his toothless mouth flapping open and his surprisingly deep voice disrupting the silence. “If I was going to kill you, I would have done it years ago when you were small and weak.”

“Well, I’m glad you chose not to,” I said endearingly, being careful not to thank him, even sarcastically. It was dangerous to thank the Fae, another piece of important information he had passed on to me. He had been such a big part of my life growing up, and I loved this peculiar little creature almost as much as my father.

He waddled over towards me, standing close but not close enough to touch. He didn’t like that; he didn’t usually like to be seen at all, making himself invisible to all those around him. Apparently, I was able to see through that trick. It frustrated him at first, but he seemed to have finally got used to it. He often chose to sneak up on me instead. He was incredibly nimble for a being of his stature, and his large hairy feet were surprisingly silent.

“What are you doing so far from the house?” I asked him. It was unusual to see him come this far out. He enjoyed the warmth and comfort of the indoors and particularly disliked the Dead Forest. 

“Hungry.” He grumbled, choosing to walk ahead of me now, bending over and flashing his hairy naked bum in my direction.

I covered my eyes at the sight. His nakedness had always been something I’d never quite gotten used to. I offered him clothes once, and his little wrinkly brown face had scrunched up in horror and disgust. He had informed me that I had deeply offended him with my offer, and if I wasn’t so ignorant, or so generous with my gifts of food, he would have left the house immediately, returning to Faerie, never to be seen again.

The thought of never seeing him again had upset me greatly, and I had burst into tears. Making him frown and thrust tissues in my hands, informing me not to make a mess as he had just cleaned.

I had never offered him clothes again.

“I’ve some bread leftover if you like?” I said, holding out a small chunk of fresh bread I had been saving for later.

He waddled back towards me, holding his head high and peering down his nose at me. “Leftovers?” He frowned.

“Times are tough,” I said with a shrug. “It was baked this morning though.”

He snatched the proffered bread from my outstretched hand, shoving it into his wide gaping mouth and chewing on it slowly. 

“It will do.” He said, spraying bread crumbs all down his front before quickly wiping himself down.

I smiled warmly at him, I would go hungry tonight, but it was a small price to pay for his company.

I felt a small tug in my mind; that spark I had been searching for was calling to me. I rushed forward excitedly; the risk of venturing out here may have been worth it after all.

Dropping to my knees, I removed the gloves from my hands, burying my fingers into the seemingly dead ground beneath me. There was definitely something there. I could feel its life force gently pulsing beneath the ground,  like a beating heart. Seeds; I wasn’t sure about what plant they would grow into, but I could definitely find out.

“Hob,” I called out, unsure if he had followed me or not. “If you see a dead person coming for me, feel free to yell loudly.”

He probably wouldn’t; he was Fae after all, and they weren’t exactly known for being helpful, especially if they gained nothing from it. 

I continued regardless, closing my eyes briefly and breathing in deeply, trusting that I’d be able to hear if someone were to sneak up on me. Now for the hard part. 

I felt my magic build up inside me, drawing it down towards my fingertips and pushing it into the soil. I could see the faint emerald green and golden glow coming from my hands, burying itself deep within the earth as I willed it to nourish the dormant seeds below.

Slowly I withdrew my fingers from the ground, my magic still weaving out of me, as I placed my hands gently on top of the dark, cracked soil. Little green shoots burst upwards, stems curling out, as large green leaves unfurled before my eyes. It looked like I’d found some potatoes; what should have taken three months to grow had barely taken a few minutes. I grinned widely to myself. It was near impossible to grow anything reliably in this broken world, so a healthy potato plant was a good find. 

I silently thanked whichever God had chosen to gift me these powers, pulling up the potato plant and stuffing it into the dirty canvas satchel, slung over my shoulder.

“Hob!” I called out excitedly. “Did you see what I found?”

I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see his little fat body there, but he had vanished.

“Hob?” I called out again, but I got no response. 

I stood up, brushing the dirt off my fingers and knees quickly, pulling my face covering back over my mouth, and peering into the gloom. A wave of fatigue hit me, it always did after I used my powers, and I swayed slightly, leaning against a nearby tree for support. That’s when I saw them. Two bright blue pinpricks of light coming from a particularly dark part of the woods. My blood turned to ice, running through my veins and around my body causing me to shudder. My earlier fatigue was immediately forgotten, as adrenaline coursed through me. It was fight or flight time. I withdrew my dagger as the largest wolf I had ever seen sauntered out of the woods, staring directly at me. It paused, looking at me intently with an almost human expression of fascination on its face. Its russet red and brown fur stirred gently in the breeze, carrying his scent in my direction an oddly familiar odour I couldn’t quite place, but it wasn’t unpleasant. I found that I actually quite liked it. 

I stared right back at the beast, meeting its cold amber eyes with my terrified green ones. There was no way I was getting out of this unscathed. My small dagger would be about as much use to me against this creature as a blade of grass, and my powers were useless when it came to combat. I didn’t think lobbing spuds at it would help my cause in any way.

A loud crash came from behind the wolf, and it looked towards it, taking its eyes off me. My legs unfroze immediately. I seized the moment he was distracted to about turn and sprint through the forest as fast as my legs would carry me.